


NEXTs' Night Out

by certs_up



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certs_up/pseuds/certs_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "One on One." Yuri Petrov and Barnaby Brooks Jr. try hanging out together and acting like a couple of adolescents, with varying degrees of success. There's bubble gum, NEXT powers, fart humor, and even a little serious discussion. Yuri-centric gen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dinner Companions Again

Yuri surveyed the fabric slung over his arm. Even though he'd been living with her his entire life, he still had difficulty fathoming his mother's taste in clothes. All the same, making repeated trips to the department store to return her rejects and try again was a far more appealing prospect than bringing her there physically and risking one of her all-too-literal attacks of lucidity.

"Yuri! It's good seeing you out and about."

Yuri looked up, startled; very few people addressed him by first name. "Barnaby! Hello. You're looking well."

"Thanks. I needed to pick up some more T-shirts and ... oh." He'd glanced down at Yuri's armload and was clearly trying not to stare, and just as clearly trying to figure out what to say.

"For my mother," Yuri explained. "She's basically housebound, and she wanted a few new dresses."

"Oh." Barnaby looked visibly relieved, then almost as visibly embarrassed. "That's very thoughtful of you. I guess I shouldn't think it's odd to see you in this part of the store."

"I suppose I don't look as odd here as I do in women's underwear," Yuri replied, frowning thoughtfully. At Barnaby's reaction, he realized what he'd said and put a hand to his forehead.

Barnaby charitably refrained from making any response. Yuri soon recovered himself and said, "Anyway, don't let me delay you."

"You're not. Actually ... do you have anything planned for this evening?"

"Other than going back home and being told I have dreadful taste and need to return these? Not really, no. Why?"

Barnaby's expression shifted to genuine concern. "Is that what's going to happen?"

"Let's say it wouldn't be without precedent. Don't worry about it. What's on your mind?"

"Well." Barnaby had picked up Kotetsu's mannerism of putting a hand behind his head when embarrassed. "After the way things went the other night, I thought I should make it up to you. Will you let me take you out to dinner again, someplace else?"

Yuri blinked, taken aback. "Barnaby, none of that was your fault. I mean, the business with the end table, yes, but that idiot throwing Sky High through the window and then trying demolish an entire dining room was no reflection on you."

"No, but I still feel responsible. I was the one taking you out. I'd even chosen the restaurant. You got your dessert ruined, and on top of everything you had to drive me home--"

"Barnaby, that's enough." They were making their way slowly, side by side, toward the front of the store. "I thoroughly enjoyed dinner and your company up to the moment Sky High made his entrance. It was most gracious of you to have taken me out at all."

"I'd like to again, anyway. Right now, if you're free. I'd enjoy a break from looking at the walls of my apartment and listening to opera."

Yuri looked himself up and down. White T-shirt, gray athletic pants with white stripes down the sides ... as before, it wasn't exactly black tie. In fact, for purposes of eating out, it bordered on embarrassing. "All of Stern Bild to choose from, and I'm your best alternative?"

"If you need to hurry home and hear about your bad taste in women's apparel, I don't want to interfere."

Yuri gazed bleakly toward the checkout. "Were you thinking of anywhere in particular?"

* * *

Two adjacent slots were empty in the Pizza Out parking lot. Yuri shook his head at the incongruity of parking his BMW on the cracking asphalt of a Bronze Stage establishment; even Barnaby's Honda, beautifully maintained as it was, looked a bit out of place. "You're the last person I'd expect to care about having a coupon," he told Barnaby as he fell into step beside him.

"It's about fortuitousness, not money," Barnaby replied. "It really seemed to mean a lot to that girl to give it to someone when she wouldn't be able to use it herself."

"Since you're not a Hero anymore, there seems very little point in falling all over yourself to accommodate fans. Especially a fan who nearly knocks you over with her rabbit-head backpack when she gets distracted by something shiny."

"I don't think I'm falling all over myself by accepting a small gift from someone who spots me in a parking deck. Besides, you seemed to enjoy the food last time we were here. And no Heroes came crashing in the window."

"That's true. The last part particularly."

The waitress assigned to them practically lit up on seeing the pair. When she returned with their drinks and a basket of breadsticks, she also brought a vase with a single red rose (both vase and rose were plastic, of course) and placed it in the center of the table. "Would you like another Sweets To The Sweet, or do you need a little more time?"

"A little more time, please," Barnaby told her, and once she was out of earshot, he said to Yuri, "She was our server last time. I guess she remembers."

"She might well think our faces are on the Stern currency, but wh ... oh." And after a moment. " _Oh._ "

"Yuri? Want to clue me in?"

Yuri pointed to the newly placed centerpiece. "Sweets To The Sweet. _Sweets To The Sweet._ It's for people who are ... romantically involved. She thinks we're an item." Yuri grimaced, then murmured, "Oh, Kotetsu."

Barnaby chuckled. "I doubt if that occurred to Kotetsu, though I suppose the little heart beside it on the menu should have given it away."

"Kotetsu wouldn't notice a heart unless it had been ripped out of his chest and used to bludgeon him. If then." Yuri frowned thoughtfully. "On the other hand, that was a good pizza, and I suppose it doesn't matter what our server thinks about our relationship. Would you like a Sweets To The Sweet?"

"I'm fine with that."

"Shall we see what happens if we order salads?"

"Happens?"

"Did you know tomatoes are also called 'love apples'?"

The salads arrived with tomato slices arranged in a heart shape on top. As Yuri sampled the honey mustard dressing he'd poured over his, Barnaby said, "Why don't we let this be an inspiration, too?"

"Hm?" A forkful of tomato precluded a more articulate response. 

"Let's make tonight a date."

Yuri's double-take nearly sent the fork down his throat. Once his coughing had subsided, Barnaby asked if he was all right.

"I'm doing quite well for a man who's been playing tonsil hockey with silverware, thank you. What do you mean, a _date_?"

"Not a _date_ date. I don't mean we'd kiss or hold hands or anything like that." Barnaby smiled self-consciously. "Besides, I don't swing that way."

"Your female fans will be relieved," said Yuri, who didn't have a very good grasp of female fan psychology. "What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking about something you'd said when we were having tea, about having a lost adolescence to be angry about. I'm not angry about it, but I didn't really have an adolescence either. I was just thinking ... we don't have to worry about making a good impression, the way a couple of teenagers on an actual date would. We can have the up side of a date and think of things to do together without the down side ... all the anxiety of having to get everything just right in front of that special girl--or guy."

"I think you're describing something more like hanging out than like dating."

Barnaby gave half a smile. "Maybe. I can't say I ever really did that either."

"You are a sad sack," Yuri muttered.

"They say it takes one to know one."

"I was a perfectly normal teenager until Albert Maverick got his hooks into me." Pause. "Well, I suppose not _perfectly_ normal, but I did have friends and hang out with them." Yuri rearranged a few pieces of salad. "I think we're too old to recapture that spirit."

"We don't know if we don't try. Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"

"Just old enough not to be trusted." Yuri wondered if Barnaby was too young to remember the once-popular adage about not trusting anyone over...

"Thirty?" said Barnaby. "That's all?"

"At the moment."

"That's not old."

"I know. That's why I haven't contemplated filing any sort of suit about wrongful termination from my job."

"I'm sorry. But anyway." Barnaby chewed his salad for a bit. "I want to try it. I want to try just having fun."

"I'm an odd choice for a companion in that," Yuri said quietly, almost too quietly to hear.

Barnaby shook his head. "No. You're a good choice. I like Kotetsu and I admire him a great deal, but if I told him I wanted to have fun, he'd try something really crazy. Either that, or we'd just get drunk together, and that's not what I'm looking for." Barnaby made several unsuccessful stabs at his salad and finally said, "It's harder to articulate why. But I want to. I guess it's not the most auspicious way to try to make up for an evening that went wrong. And I don't insist. If we just have a quiet dinner and go our separate ways, that's okay too."

Except Yuri could tell from Barnaby's face that it wasn't. "I suppose there are worse ways to spend an evening than hanging out with Barnaby Brooks Jr."

Barnaby smiled. "That's the spirit. What did you and your friends do when you hung out together?"

"It varied. We played soccer--but that takes a group. We weren't old enough to drive, but sometimes we'd take a bus to the mall. Sometimes we played board games or card games. Nothing that really transfers to the current situation."

"Did you have any hobbies back then?"

Yuri's smile was as sudden as it was sweet. "I liked architecture. I made models of buildings or neighborhoods. I never did it with anybody else, but it was fun."

"Wow. Did you make them from kits?"

"Sometimes. The ones from kits looked better, but I was prouder of the ones I scratch-built. Besides, it's usually just famous buildings you can get kits for. If I wanted to make part of Stern Bild, I had to do it myself." The smile faded. "Mostly, anyway." Yuri's attention returned to his salad, though with less enthusiasm than previously.

Barnaby watched and waited, and finally said, "Mostly?"

"Hm?" Yuri's thoughts apparently had wandered elsewhere, perhaps to a place that required loading a crouton on one's fork.

"You said mostly. About making models of Stern Bild from scratch."

"Mm. Oh." Yuri was looking down. "There was this kit of the Stern Medaille area. Very detailed. Very big. Maybe I was a little young to take it on ... no, I don't think so. Took me over a year to build it." The sweet smile returned but was less itself now. Then, softly: "Well, it doesn't matter."

"What happened?"

Yuri sighed. "I had to put all that behind me, you know. Along with my friends. Along with everything, really, except preparing to be a grown-up and then being one." He looked at the remains of his salad. "I had to."

The matter hung almost palpably between them, and Barnaby asked, "What did you do?"

Yuri looked up sadly. "Oh, Barnaby. Can't you guess?"

Barnaby glanced about, but any other diners who might have been in earshot were occupied with their own conversations, so he softly said, "Your power?"

Yuri shook his head. "No, not back then. A regular kitchen match sufficed. For all of it."

It was no surprise, but it still needed digesting, and finally Barnaby said, as he'd said of Yuri's other losses, "I'm sorry. I am sorry, Yuri."

"I had to," Yuri repeated. "Everything. I can't describe why. At least I had a rationale for my friends, but my models ... I had to. I had to." He sighed. "It made such a mess in the grill in the backyard, but with Papa dead, it's not like it was ever going to get used again anyway. I got rid of all of it, of course. Everything. I had ... sorry. I'm repeating myself." 

"If you need to talk, you need to talk," Barnaby told him, but Yuri shook his head.

"I don't think there's anything to say, really. It's all behind me now. I don't think I'd enjoy making models now. I do still like architecture, though."

Yuri was smiling again, and Barnaby had to smile too. "Stern Bild has a lot of architecture, at least. Do you have a favorite building?"


	2. Sweets to the Sweet

By the time their pizza arrived, Yuri had covered a small pile of napkins with diagrams and rough sketches of Justice Tower, the building he literally knew inside and out. In fact, he found himself wishing he could explain just _how_ thoroughly he knew it: how he'd discovered "dead space" in the details of Lady Justice (and isn't it said that the devil is in the details?) that could conceal a Lunatic outfit or two, and serve as a changing room when an urgent need for true justice arose during working hours (which, for Yuri, had an extensive overlap with waking hours). Reflecting on the space he'd discovered, however, reminded him of the facility he'd noticed but scrupulously avoided on the uppermost floors--after all, he wasn't one to engage in gratuitous trespassing. He rationalized that even if he had explored the space behind Lady Justice's eyes, he likely would have had no suspicion that the robots were intended to supplant the Heroes following their mass murder. Instead he explained how the building's proportions were designed to accommodate its being divided into levels by the design of Stern Bild itself, and how Lady Justice's more organic shape was made structurally sound.

"You sure do like to draw," the waitress observed, as Yuri swept aside his visual aids to make room for their entree. "I guess you're artistic."

Yuri only gave a self-deprecating smile and shook his head. As he and Barnaby carefully separated slices for themselves, Yuri said, "It's been ... quite a walk down memory lane." He caught himself before asking after comparable interests from Barnaby's past. The poor man probably hadn't had them--or if he had, any recollection had been wiped by Maverick's power. Yuri continued, "But I was interested in all the towers around Stern Medaille when I was younger. I remember when Kronos Foods put a new figure on their tower. I wished I could have stayed out of school and watched all that, with the cranes and helicopters. That was what I noticed at the time. I think it was actually part of a re-figuring that took place because a spell of bad publicity depressed their stock price a bit. Do you ever think it's silly, how corporations concern themselves with stock prices? It's not as if stock price has any real effect on a business's viability. It's ..." Yuri hesitated, both trying to choose his words and wondering if his pizza had cooled sufficiently "... it says even less than the Heroes' points."

"No need to get personal." Barnaby was smiling, but he also looked wary.

"Sorry--it used to be my business too, you know, even if I wasn't out there earning points." _I was out there administering justice, and no thanks to you._ "But the number of points a Hero accrues isn't really a reflection of how much he accomplishes. Often multiple Heroes collaborate toward an arrest or a rescue, but points go to only one individual. It's easy to underestimate the value of someone who acts off-camera, but..." Yuri's mind wandered to the men who'd made his father appear heroic in his later days, doing all the work and letting Legend take the credit. He shook himself out of his reverie and continued: "Just as receiving points doesn't necessarily reflect who did the work to make an arrest possible, a rise or fall in a stock's price may not reflect a company's worth. I can't believe I'm talking shop like this." He quickly took a bite of his pizza. The cheese was still a bit hot for eating, but he'd taken only a small bite, not enough to burn.

Barnaby had cut his slice into several neat pieces, the better to let it cool. "No, it's okay. Sometimes I thought that too, but I'd never compared it to corporate stock prices."

"The things that cause a stock's price to go up or down can be as inconsequential as the things that influence which Hero is first on the scene. Do you remember that kerfluffle when Fire Emblem was switching sponsors? The stock took a nosedive, but the corporation's fundamentals weren't affected. Sharp investors knew it and snapped up Helios shares while they were low, and they didn't stay low for long."

"I was one of those sharp investors."

"Good for you. So was I."

Barnaby returned Yuri's smile. "Apollon's stock is down right now, but I doubt it's going to stay that way. Are you thinking about buying?"

Yuri shook his head, grimacing. "Don't make me lose my appetite. I've never been able to bring myself to invest in Apollon."

Barnaby's smile also vanished. "I don't blame you." He forked up a square of pizza, chewed it thoughtfully, and said, "So what about the others of the Seven Companies? Do you think any of them are good investments?"

Looking back on it, Yuri was mildly incredulous that on a night designated for acting like a couple of adolescents, he and Barnaby then spent half an hour talking like a couple of investors. Barnaby was in fact thoroughly informed on the prospects of all seven Hero-sponsoring companies, aware not only of basics like net worth, market cap, and P/E, but fairly up to date on product lines and plans for market expansion, as well as rankings by various agencies. He even subscribed to _Value Line._ Yuri's own interest in investing was on-again, off-again; work had taken too much of his time for him to follow the markets, or even to justify a subscription to any market newsletters. As Justice Bureau representative on the city council, however, he had found that judicious attention to hints dropped by CEOs of the Seven Companies could net him tidy gains, usually under circumstances that would clear him of any suspicion of insider trading. Usually.

The waitress appeared to ask if they were having dessert, and Barnaby interrupted his own disquisition on Helperides' past misadventures with mortgages to ask Yuri, "Are we?"

Yuri shook his head. "We'll be making other arrangements, thank you."

But as they passed the cash register (Barnaby, and only Barnaby, having left a respectable tip at their table), Yuri noticed a glass jar of hard candy. Barnaby waited as he rummaged in it, then withdrew a few items.

"Should we take so many?" Barnaby asked, as Yuri proferred not one but two Dum-Dums.

"We're making up for lost time, and we didn't partake on our previous visit. Go on, take them; I'm sure the establishment expects a certain amount of exploitation."

Barnaby shrugged and did as he was told. The candies were small, particularly for something on a stick, even a small stick. Barnaby held them near his face, tilting his head to read the wrappers. "Mystery Flavor?"

"Just put the damn things in your mouth, Brooks."

"Both of them?"

"Yesh, bosth." Having unwrapped the candies with surprising rapidity, Yuri had already done so.

Again, Barnaby complied. "Okay."

Yuri smiled. "We lookh likhe mutant vampirezh. You hknow what we needh?"

Barnaby eyed him thoughtfully, and then, setting the example, suggested, "To take these out of our mouths before speaking?"

Yuri rolled his eyes, but did indeed pull the suckers out of his mouth and then said, "We need to get some bubble gum."

"We do?"

"We absolutely do. There's no accompaniment to hanging out like blowing a few bubbles. Popping them loudly optional."

Barnaby had started to put the suckers back into his mouth but interrupted his own gesture. "Actually, I don't know how to blow bubble gum."

Yuri nearly dropped his candy. "You _what?!_ "

"I don't know how to blow bubbles with bubble gum." And Barnaby quickly returned the Dum-Dums to his mouth, as if looking like a mutant vampire would compensate for this particular shortcoming.

Yuri shook his head. "I never took Maverick for a model parent, but this enters the realm of criminal neglect."

"Hey, my parents didn't teach me either."

"That was very responsible of them. Children under five are better off without bubble gum. For older kids, it's another matter, and we honorary adolescents are going to rectify this _immediately._ I believe that's a drug store across the street."

Yuri strode manfully toward the nearest crosswalk, but as Barnaby followed, he asked, "Suppose they're out of bubble gum?"

"That would constitute a crisis."

"A bubblegum crisis?"

Yuri winced ( _I fed him that one, didn't I?_ ), then muttered, "As if it isn't enough _being_ an anime character."

* * *

When Barnaby started reading the ingredients on the back of every bubble gum brand in the small store's limited selection, Yuri grew impatient and went exploring. He had never entirely abandoned one habit acquired in his high school days: always check the section labeled "Clearance." Brooks probably didn't know such things existed, but over the years Yuri had bought his share of bruised produce, crumpled cans, and near-expiration dry goods. Once again, Clearance came through. "Barnaby, we have got to try these."

Barnaby looked up. "These" appeared to be a string of individually wrapped miniature sausage links, at which he raised an eyebrow, and then his gaze wandered to the header on the packaging. 

"'Blow Your Lunch'?"

Yuri nodded, grinning. "They're bubble gum. They'll probably taste pretty ghastly, but we can find something else to use as a chaser. Like this." He pulled a fat pink cigar off a shelf. 

"That's huge."

"We can split it. Come on, I'm buying."

* * *

Yuri was surprised how pleasant the park was, given that it was Bronze Stage. Some of the lights were just beginning to glow. He and Barnaby sat on a bench, and he apportioned the "Blow Your Lunch" gum, two small sausage shapes to each of them. Barnaby tore an end off one wrapper, slipped the gum into his mouth, chewed, and grimaced. "Ugh. This is terrible."

Yuri bit into his own gum and winced. "I concur." He put the second piece into his mouth anyway. "Not only that..." He chewed for a bit, swallowed, and chewed some more. "I'm not sure this stuff is going to make for decent bubbles." He worked it experimentally with his tongue and, after a couple of failed attempts, spat it out into the wrapper, still in his hand, and--as Barnaby had already done with his entire portion--dropped it into a nearby trash can. "'Blow Your Lunch,' indeed," he muttered, pulling the pink cigar out of his pocket. He broke it in two and handed part to Barnaby.

Barnaby side-eyed him. "Why do you get the bigger half?"

"Because I know what I'm doing." Yuri bit off a chunk, chewed it, bit off more. "Try only as much as feels comfortable," he told Barnaby. "You need enough for a bubble, but not so much it's hard to chew."

Yuri had sometimes wondered, idly, what it would be like having a younger brother or sister. For the most part he'd never wanted one, especially when his family life went south. Bad enough that the three of them had to endure that misery; he wouldn't have wished any of it on an additional human being, especially a child. It was a thing he hadn't thought about in years, even though he might have been reminded by experiences with the wet-behind-the-ears interns he'd occasionally had to instruct in the finer points of using a copy machine and, once, a stapler (a _stapler;_ where had the boy been living, a zoo?); even his adventure with Kaede, fraught as it was, hadn't called such thoughts to mind. Barnaby was younger than he was by a good half-decade, and even though he didn't need looking after in the usual sense, learning the ins and outs of bubble gum wasn't something grown-ups did.

And yet, when Barnaby did it, it was. Well, sort of. He was so studious, and at the same time, he looked so foolish, because it's simply not possible to look dignified while doing some things. He was a grown-up, and yet in those awkward moments, he wasn't. His first actual bubble was predictably thick-walled and short-lived, but Yuri smiled when it appeared and then popped. "There, you've got it."

Barnaby smiled, though briefly and reflexively. "Not really."

"You'll get better. It just takes practice."

Barnaby nodded as he rose. "Want to go for a walk?"

"Barnaby, you don't need to prove to me that you can walk and chew gum at the same time."

Barnaby crossed his arms. "I'm going to prove that I can walk and blow bubbles at the same time."

Yuri rose to follow him. "Now, let's don't get too ambitious."

By the time they'd made a couple of circuits of the small park, Barnaby not only could blow a bigger bubble than Yuri, he was making good progress on blowing one bubble inside another. It wasn't the same as having a little brother, but Yuri felt absurdly proud of him. He didn't say as much, but perhaps it showed in his expression, for Barnaby said, "Maybe you should teach me juggling next."

"Even if I knew how, we don't have any balls. ...Did I just say that?"

Barnaby was preoccupied with his gum and overlooked Yuri's gaffe. "This stuff gets bad-tasting after a while, doesn't it." 

Yuri nodded. "Though not as fast as 'Blow Your Lunch' ... maybe that's how it got that name. Want to try a junk food chaser?'

Barnaby discreetly dropped his gum into a nearby trash can. "Sounds good. What do you suggest?"

"Real Real Real Ice Cream?"

"Not worried about getting into a rut with that?"

"The place has a hundred and three flavors. You could eat there every day for a year without getting into a rut." After a pause: "I promise not to get vanilla."


	3. When You Stop Acting Your Age

Yuri was as good as his word. Not only did he not get vanilla, he got a two-scoop cone of rocky-road-type flavors and prodded Barnaby into doing similarly, though Barnaby's two scoops were variations on neapolitan. Justice Tower was in walking distance, and now that night had fallen, spotlights illuminated its full height, right up to Lady Justice and her recently restored face. The two strolled across the street for a better view.

"Feeling nostalgic?" Barnaby suggested, when the silence grew long even for his tastes.

"And furious and sad and ... oddly vindicated," Yuri finally said, a little surprised at his own candor. "I spent the best years of my life in that place, and all I get for it is out on the street." He looked at his ice cream; he was almost down to the cone. "And the worst of it is, I can't complain. I never should have gone beyond assistant prosecutor, not at my age. I never should have been involved with the Heroes or Hero TV or the Council. It took Albert Maverick's downfall to set things right ... to set that little part right. There's corruption. There always will be. It's more than the Heroes can fix. Heroes or Lunatic or anyone."

Barnaby looked at him, frowning. "Lunatic?"

"Lunatic always said he was administering true justice, remember? He didn't fight corruption either, not directly. Even when he killed Albert Maverick, it was too little too late. He didn't know any more than the rest of us about what that man had done. At least Maverick met his Waterloo in Justice Tower, even if it wasn't in court...."

Barnaby had felt anger growing within him as Yuri so offhandedly discussed Lunatic and his murderous self-righteousness, then Maverick, as if the two were linked by anything but who had killed whom. But then he saw what Yuri was driving at, or rather, wandering toward. "There's a saying that the mills of the gods grind slow but exceedingly fine."

"That's only another ideal," Yuri said softly. "Life certainly doesn't bring justice to everyone. There's no point in believing in an afterlife. I wish there were, but there isn't. If Lady Justice were a god and not just a statue, she would have stepped down from ... that ice cream's about to melt onto your fingers."

It was, and Barnaby hastily licked around the perimeter of his cone. Yuri watched him, then bit into his own ice cream and chewed through a chunk of fudge. Both stood silently eating until ice cream and cone had achieved a new equilibrium.

"I think there's more justice with the Heroes than there would be without them," Barnaby finally said. "I probably wouldn't have become a Hero if Maverick hadn't been manipulating me--me and everyone--but I know I helped people, even if I had an ulterior motive." It occurred to him that Yuri deserved some credit too. "I'm glad we have laws and courts, even if they don't achieve perfect justice for everyone. I know you worked hard for justice. You were always doing your job the best you could. That's as much as anyone can do."

Yuri didn't respond, at least not in words. He did, however, nod to one side, then started walking. Barnaby followed suit, and they ended up viewing Lady Justice more or less in profile, their ice cream finally gone. Suddenly Yuri grinned and punched Barnaby's upper arm--not hard enough to hurt, just enough to get his attention. "We've been acting much too mature. We need to have a contest."

Barnaby hadn't thought of it that way, but Yuri in fact was outfitted for some sort of athletic endeavor. At some point he'd donned a jacket that matched his sweat pants: gray fabric, white stripes down the length of the sleeves. Yuri was also--as Barnaby had never really noticed before--a little taller than he was. Barnaby didn't quite smile, but there was animation in his eyes as he said, "Okay."

Yuri had maneuvered them, Barnaby realized, into an area somewhat sheltered by walls and trees--not quite the perfect spot for a mugging, but one that made casual observation relatively easy to avoid. Yuri pointed up. "Race you to the Justice Tower heliport."

Barnaby glanced back and forth from Yuri to the proposed target. When pressed, Yuri had said he could use his power to fly, like Lunatic, and Barnaby could of course use his own power to achieve that height in a few bounds--he was already mentally plotting handholds. "Wouldn't that be trespassing?"

"It would, but you're an ex-Hero: If anyone caught you, you could say you thought you saw something suspicious. If anyone sees _me,_ on the other hand--"

"I could say Lunatic was trying to kidnap you, but I grabbed you just in time."

Yuri stared at Barnaby, eyes widening. "That's impressive. I had no idea you had it in you." Yuri frowned thoughtfully. "But blame somebody other than Lunatic."

Barnaby shrugged. "On the count of three?"

"Be my guest."

At "Three!" Barnaby leapt, but the blue glow of his power was eclipsed by the burst of flame beside him. He didn't really have time to wonder what he'd been thinking when he accepted a challenge from someone who had no need of handholds or footholds, and not until he actually touched the heliport railing did he realize he had an advantage: Yuri was using both hands for propulsion and had overshot their target, then dropped down to it, his feet hitting the tarmac more than a second after Barnaby's.

"I win," Barnaby told him smugly.

Yuri looked ready to take issue with that, but evidently had second thoughts, and said, "Well, then." There was a gleam in his eye as he rummaged in his pocket, extracted a handkerchief, shook out its crisp creases, then tore it in half. "I'm sure you wouldn't object to a rematch."

Barnaby took the fabric that Yuri proferred. "What's this?"

"Evidence." Yuri pointed northward. "Kronos Tower and back. We prove we got there by leaving these on the minotaur's horns. I'll take the left, you take the right. First one back to our starting point on Bronze Stage wins."

Barnaby shook his head. "I've got enough time left, but it's not a fair contest. You can go there in a straight line, and I can't."

This was true, and Yuri instantly saw the justice of it. "Fine, I'll spot you a hundred yards on the flat. You've got an advantage on the return trip, since descents are tricky for m--"

And before Yuri could add Kotetsu's unofficial catchphrase ("I'm not finished talking!"), Barnaby had bounded over the heliport railing.

_Well, he does have only five minutes,_ Yuri reflected. He soon caught sight of Barnaby's figure on the Gold Stage Crossway, every bit of a hundred yards along his course, and, grabbing his half handkerchief in his teeth, he took off.

It felt odd to fly without the Lunatic suit, and particularly without the mask. The wind was fierce and painful against his eyes, and the lack of accustomed ballast made his flight unstable. He was also a little worried about losing a shoe or some other article of clothing. At Kronos Tower he again found himself at a disadvantage: His would-be foothold gave nearly no purchase, and he saved himself from falling only by slinging an elbow around the minotaur's left horn while boosting himself with flame from his other hand. Barnaby, meanwhile, practically shot to the top of the statue and, in a single, invisibly fast gesture, grasped the tip of the horn and neatly impaled the white rag on it, then jumped off and let gravity take him down.

Yuri pulled the fabric out of his mouth, similarly ripped the horn's sharp tip into it, and leapt into space, flames kicking in as soon as he was well clear of the structure. As Barnaby had observed, a virtual beeline path to their rendezvous point was open to him, and he flew down it, eyes beginning to water from the speed when he threw his arms forward to brake, then went vertical a little faster than was probably safe, only to have Barnaby bound down from a seemingly impossible angle right in front of him. 

Barnaby grinned. "I win." And before Yuri could do more than drop into a crouch as he touched down, Barnaby had made a nearly vertical leap and was off again.

_Now, what's wrong with him?_ It wasn't like the man to not stick around and savor his victory. Yuri mentally reviewed the flash-brief image he'd caught of Barnaby, literally just long enough to say those words. He'd of course looked a bit wind-blown, but there'd been no obvious sign of damage. Had he seen something--?

No, Yuri suddenly realized, cutting off his speculation in mid-thought. He hadn't. More likely the opposite, and he took off again, following Barnaby's trajectory.


	4. Exploits

It took a little searching, but Yuri finally located his target and made a smooth landing on the roof beside Barnaby, who didn't look at him. "This is embarrassing."

As when Yuri had last seen him, Barnaby wasn't wearing his glasses. "What happened?"

"My glasses really aren't meant for athletic activity, but I didn't think about that when I accepted your challenge. I think it was a combination of jumping from a height and there being a sudden updraft, but they got blown off. That's not a problem: I can use my Hundred Power to sharpen my eyesight, for as long as it lasts. The problem was that they landed near a dog who apparently thought they were some kind of animal and decided to treat them as prey."

Yuri could see where this was going and murmured, "Oh, dear."

"I still had my Hundred Power, so I was both faster and stronger than a dog. I was able to catch him, but he was really hanging onto my glasses, and I didn't want to hurt him, so I couldn't use force." Barnaby sighed. "They don't teach dog wrangling at Hero Academy. Anyway, I was trying to figure out how to be persuasive, and I let him get away. He ran behind a garbage truck emptying a skip in that alley--" Barnaby pointed in a direction some distance from any alley, but Yuri let it slide "--so I couldn't see which way he'd gone, and over the noise of the engine, I couldn't hear, either. I thought the best strategy would be going onto a rooftop and trying to spot him from above. The next thing I knew, I couldn't see; I hadn't been watching the time, and I let my power run out." Barnaby still looked rather embarrassed. "I'm sorry about this."

"It's all right. I should be apologizing; this is the second pair of glasses you've lost running around with me." Before Barnaby could protest that the first pair really hadn't been Yuri's fault, Yuri continued, "Why don't I get you down to street level and then see if I can spot your four-footed friend?"

"Can you do that?"

"Get you down, or find the dog? I'm not sure about the latter, but I can absolutely do the former. I don't dare try _flying_ with a passenger--the added weight and the change in balance and surface would ruin my aerodynamics--but just jetting vertically ought to be safe enough. It's certainly easier than trying to explain to the local fire department what we're doing here."

Barnaby nodded. "That's true. So. How do we do this?"

Yuri got as close to the edge of the roof as he dared, crouched down, and gestured toward his back. "Get on. And hold on tight, because I cannot catch you if you fall."

Barnaby did as he was told, though it felt ridiculous and, he realized, probably looked even sillier. "Okay. I'm ready."

Yuri nodded and stood up, though a little shakily; bent his knees a couple of times, gauging weight and balance, then took a deep breath and jumped even as flames shot from his palms. There was a brief, precipitous plunge that made Barnaby gasp and momentarily tighten his grip; then the thrust of the flames kicked in, and they descended slowly to the pavement. Yuri staggered under the added weight as he killed the flames and nearly went to his knees. Barnaby quickly got to his own feet.

"Thanks again."

"You're welcome. Now let me see about your glasses."

"Yuri, I don't know if there's--"

Barnaby was going to say "any point in trying to find that dog now," but Yuri had already vanished in a burst of blue flame. Yuri could hardly explain that he was very, _very_ practiced at tracking targets from rooftops, though he'd never before tried it with a dog. Roof-hopping in roughly concentric circles soon had its reward: a brown-and-white dog with a long, rough coat that had settled down for a chewing session with, yes, unmistakably--Barnaby's glasses.

Yuri didn't want to hurt the dog any more than Barnaby had--he wasn't particularly fond of animals, but he didn't wish them ill--and dropped to the ground some distance away. The dog immediately got up--keeping a grip on the glasses.

"Damn it," Yuri muttered. "Can't you decide I'm a threat and drop them to bark at me or something?"

The dog must have concluded that someone who fell from the sky could play an impressive game of chase, given proper motivation: He play-bowed, tail wagging, glasses firmly clamped between his jaws, then ran in a quick half-circle before putting on a burst of speed and looking hopefully back at Yuri. Yuri sighed. He _could_ trap the dog in a ring of flame, but the idea didn't appeal to him. He approached the animal slowly, hands in his jacket pockets, hoping for inspiration. What he found was Blow Your Lunch.

Nothing venture, nothing gain. Yuri hunkered down and concentrated on very slowly unwrapping a piece of gum, making the procedure look as interesting--he hoped--as possible. He cast a sideward glance at the dog--yes, he had its attention--then popped the gum into his mouth and started chewing, as loudly and sloppily as he could.

He also started unwrapping another piece of gum.

The dog must have been hungry, getting bored of the glasses, or both. It came nearer, temples hanging from its jaws. Yuri glanced up again, then waved the fresh gum in front of his own mouth. "Want a piece? You've got to come get it." He held the gum out while pretending to ignore the dog and continuing to chew his own in an open-mouthed style that would have shocked Stern Bild's CEOs if any had had the dubious fortune to see it.

Apparently the scent of the gum sealed it. The dog slowly came close to Yuri's outstretched hand, finally dropped the glasses, and helped itself to Yuri's last piece of Blow Your Lunch.

While the dog confronted the conundrum of trying to chew its new discovery, Yuri hastily tucked the empty wrapper into his pocket, then leaped forward and grabbed Barnaby's glasses. Amazingly enough, both lenses were still present, though the frame certainly showed signs of--well, this was at least better than going back empty-handed. Yuri pocketed the glasses, zipped the pocket shut just to be safe, got his bearings, and took the most direct route he could back to where Barnaby was, doubtless, not seeing the sights.

It would be an overstatement to say that Yuri had a smile on his lips and a song in his heart, but the prospect of rejoining Barnaby cheered him, particularly since he had accomplished his mission, insofar as it had been possible. He was nonetheless mindful enough to keep his flames minimal and generally stay out of sight, mostly bouncing from rooftop to rooftop and finally taking advantage of a convenient Atlas to scope out the area where he'd left Barnaby. He'd planned only to find the nearest alley he could drop into and innocuously emerge from, but the sight in the street brought him up short. Barnaby was there, all right--encircled by half a dozen toughs. Barnaby was on his feet in a defensive pose and looked somewhat worse for wear.

"What's the matter, left your powers in your power suit?"

"Yeah, you NEXTs aren't so powerful after all. I guess once you stopped being a Hero you forgot how to do those kick attacks."

"Hey, let's see if he can kick away one of these." To Yuri's horror, the tallest of the thugs withdrew what appeared to be a garrote from an inside pocket, and his sideward nod was evidently a cue to the others to get into position. Yuri zipped overhead and nearly twisted an ankle in his haste to land nearby but out of sight, just beyond a corner. He rounded it on foot and managed not to limp. He couldn't lean against a building, either; he needed to use both hands.

"Gentlemen." The word couldn't have been more incongruous. Barnaby whirled toward Yuri's voice, and Yuri could see where he'd wiped a trickle of blood off his chin. As Barnaby's eyes went wide, Yuri strode toward the group. "I think someone on that roof wants to deliver a message to you ... from Thanatos."

Yuri nodded toward the other side of the street, keeping his hands low. The half of the group already facing that way looked up, and their gasps led the others--and Barnaby--to do the same.

"Lunatic!" one of them practically shrieked. "It's Lunatic! Run!" Yuri hastily stepped aside, almost into the street, to avoid being taken down as the lot of them fled, suddenly indifferent to the ex-Hero they'd found at a disadvantage.

Barnaby was still staring at the mass of blue flame as Yuri approached. "Lunatic," he muttered, scowling. "Why did he have to show up now?"

"Because you needed him, you idiot," Yuri replied. "Look h--oh, right. You can't." The flaming figure vanished, and Yuri unzipped his pocket. "By the way, I retrieved your glasses, such as they are."

"Uh." Barnaby turned toward him and cautiously extended a hand. Even at arm's length, it was clear he couldn't focus on something as thin as the metal frame, and Yuri held the glasses stationary until Barnaby had a good grip. "Thanks." As he turned the glasses over, holding them so close Yuri wondered if he'd poke an eye out, he continued, "Did you see which way he went?"

"Barnaby." Yuri pointedly kept his voice low. "That wasn't Lunatic." He extended his hand, palm up, and for a fraction of a second there was a bright flash of blue.

"Huh?" Glasses still off, Barnaby stared. "That was your--? I mean, you can do that?"

"I can and I did. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private?"

"Oh. Right." Barnaby tried putting the glasses on, but the frame was too distorted for that to be feasible. "I guess you'll have to be my guide dog for a little longer. Could you call us a cab?"

"All right; we're a cab," said Yuri, shrugging. Barnaby stared for nearly five seconds, then started laughing in spite of himself.

During the two-block walk to a major artery, Barnaby withdrew a sealed packet from his coat, tore it open, unfolded a premoistened towelette, and began wiping his face. 

"You certainly are prepared for a variety of circumstances," Yuri observed.

"Hero Academy training," Barnaby explained. "It's a Hero's job to be prepared."

"For NEXT-haters too, I suppose," Yuri said softly. "Do you want to report this incident to the police?"

"I'm not sure what I'd report if I did," Barnaby mused. "I couldn't really see them."

"I could." Yuri's voice took on an ominous edge. "I have a good memory for faces." Administering justice as Lunatic made this indispensable; it was vital that his flames strike only their rightful targets. "Speaking of which, you've missed some spots on yours."

As Yuri dabbed at Barnaby's hairline with the towelette, Barnaby continued their line of thought. "I don't want to do it now, anyway. We'd be giving details to the police for an hour, and the media might latch onto an attack on Barnaby Brooks Jr. and stretch it to two hours. It might be better to let it go."

"It's not as if they were just egging your car," Yuri said dryly. "One of them was about to go after you with a garrote." 

Barnaby sighed and put a hand to his forehead--a part that Yuri had already cleaned. "You've got a good point. Still, I don't see a reason to do anything right now. Especially if your memory's going to be just as good tomorrow."

Dedicated as he was to bringing wrongdoers to justice, Yuri sympathized with Barnaby's desire to spare them the drudgery of a police report during their evening of hanging out. A cab pulled into view, and he found himself hailing it before the conversation could stray into possibly painful remarks about memory.

In a matter of minutes, Barnaby was leaning against his Honda with a sigh of relief and a pair of glasses (fresh from the glove compartment) on his face.

"That's much better," he said, slowly looking all around. He glanced at his watch. "Still a while before I can use my power again." He lowered his gaze and his voice. "Is this private enough?"

"No," Yuri said bluntly. "Let's find someplace where you can wash up properly and we can both get a bite to eat. I'm starving."

Barnaby looked at him. "After all the junk food we've eaten tonight?"

Yuri held out his palm; though no flame appeared above it, the allusion was clear enough. "Sometimes it makes me ravenous. And we're near a tea room that serves sinfully rich cheesecake."


	5. Cheesecake and Bean Burritos

"Honey?"

Barnaby looked up from his tea. "I told you, it's _not_ that kind of a date."

Sitting across the booth from him, Yuri bridled in mock offense. "It's not a date at all; we are _hanging out._ Anyway, what kind of person buys his date bubble gum?" 

_One who's unemployed?_ Barnaby started to say, but didn't. Yuri spared him the effort of finding a more politic response by asking, with a twinkle in his eye: "Sugar?"

"You're getting enough of that for both of us." More as an act of solidarity than from any desire for calories, Barnaby was having a chocolate-chip scone, and it was richer and sweeter than he had expected. "This is good, though."

Yuri nodded. "I don't come here often--should I make that into a dirty joke?"

"Like something about why you ordered cheesecake?"

"Barnaby, you're getting better at this."

Barnaby glanced about; the shop was nearly deserted. and the other customers were seated at booths some distance away. Classical music drowned out their conversations.

"Private enough?" Barnaby asked softly.

Yuri sighed and looked down, cutting into his cheesecake. "I suppose," he replied quietly. "It's true that my flames originate from my palms, but once I've started them, I can make them manifest quite some distance away, and I have a fair amount of control over their form. I'm sure Kaede told you about the ring I put around us the night we were attacked."

Barnaby nodded; Kaede had had a lot to say about the circle of fire that had surrounded the three of them, as well as the canopy of flame from her own hands. "But making Lunatic appear at--that must have been fifty or sixty feet away."

Yuri chewed a few more times and swallowed. "That distance pushed my ability to its limit for a manifestation that size. What you saw ... no, I suppose you only saw a blue blur." 

Barnaby nodded with a self-deprecatory half-smile; without his glasses he hadn't actually seen much. 

"There wasn't much to see besides a mass of flame about the height and width of a man," Yuri continued. "No features, no limbs. If those brutes attacking you had had their wits about them, the possibility that it was Lunatic might not have crossed their minds. But they had guilty consciences; all it took was a hint to make them believe that they'd been caught in the act and might be punished if someone appeared who had the ability to do so. I only had to push their thoughts in that direction, and the power of suggestion did the rest. People interpret the ambiguous as what they want to see--or what they fear to see."

"That's true." Barnaby glanced from his empty plate to their nearly empty surroundings as Yuri practically wolfed his cheesecake. "If you're working at closer range, can you ..." he paused, not sure how to express his question. "Could you make a shape that looked even more like Lunatic? Or like something else?"

More chewing and swallowing, and then a long drink of tea. "Somewhat. Flames are flames, so there are inherent limits to shaping them, and I'm not exactly an artist, no matter what our waitress at Pizza Out thinks. I've experimented--" A server emerged from the kitchen, and Yuri cut himself off abruptly, even though she was some distance away. "I'm sorry I left you on your own for so long. It never occurred to me you'd be in danger."

"No, it's okay. I'd thought it was a safe part of town, too. It was a fluke that those people came along when they did. Thanks for helping me out. And thanks again for getting my glasses back."

"It was only fair. I was in large part responsible for your losing them."

But Barnaby smiled. "I went along with your idea. I probably didn't ruin my glasses back when I was a teenager. I'm making up for lost time."

Yuri shook his head, but he was smiling too. One bite of cheesecake remained on his plate. "Barnaby, you need to try this. Go on, I've had my fill." He pushed the plate, fork and all, across the table.

Barnaby recoiled a little: Someone else had been eating off that plate, off that cake, with that fork. He fought down the urge to signal a server, to at least get a clean fork. This was a thing friends did, after all, and he picked up the fork. "You sure?"

"I'm fine."

Barnaby speared up the piece, put it in his mouth, chewed. "This is really rich." _Maybe I can even ignore the fact I'm eating some of your spit._

* * *

Having no specific goal, the two strolled along the sidewalk, gazing at the street lights and buildings. Finally Yuri said, "If you don't mind my asking, why don't you wear contacts?"

"I did when I was a Hero. My glasses weren't compatible with the power suit. Putting in contacts was a regular part of suiting up. Sometimes I wore them for interviews too. But my glasses were part of my image."

"Which you have no reason to maintain now."

"That's true, but that's not why I wear them now." After perhaps a dozen footfalls, Barnaby continued. "It's my custom to find something I like and stick with it." He patted his own shoulder. "I've had this jacket for years, and I had another one like it for years. That's the case for the belt too. I always wear the same kinds of T-shirts. When I get new glasses, I don't get new _glasses;_ I have them put new lenses in the old frames. I wear glasses because that's what I'm comfortable with."

Yuri mulled over what he'd just been told, remembering an interview in which Barnaby had been asked about his favorite part of what he was wearing--something double-breasted that had struck Yuri as a bit garish--and Barnaby had replied, somewhat uncertainly, "The belt?" Suddenly the response made sense.

"You don't get tired of always wearing the same thing?"

"No. I don't know why I should. What about you, Yuri? Do you have a lot of different kinds of clothes? I mean, for when you're not on the job."

"No. I'd never thought of it quite that way, but I suppose I'm the same: I have a few basic garments for wearing around the house, and they're pretty much all the same cut. That's what I was wearing when we had our adventure at Greentops."

"Your outfit looked very comfortable."

"It is. I wouldn't want silk for anything else, but for a shirt it's ... just right."

Barnaby mulled at this and finally said, "I've tried silk underwear."

"Have you? I take it the experience didn't make you a convert."

"No. I wore some for an ad campaign photo shoot, and I got some complimentary underwear out of it. But I don't have a reason for wearing them."

Yuri brightened up and his grin turned wolfish. "Would you like it if I _gave_ you a reason?"

Barnaby raised an eyebrow. "I can't really see you as a fashion photographer."

"Well, can you see yourself eating bean burritos?"

"What?"


	6. A Virtuoso Performance

Barnaby let himself be persuaded to eat bean burritos, but only while Yuri sat at the counter beside him and researched the combustibility of various fabrics. Yuri regretfully went along when Barnaby nixed the particular silk underwear he'd had in mind as too brightly colored and hence probably adulterated in ways that would make it more likely to burn.

"Odd," Yuri said, frowning thoughtfully. "Back in my day, I always heard that silk was the go-to substance."

"Back in your day, some dyes hadn't been invented yet, old man."

Yuri was getting up anyway, and with surprising speed and agility he wrapped an arm around Barnaby's neck while, with the other hand, he firmly applied a knuckle to the top of his head. As Barnaby flailed in ineffectual protest, Yuri informed him, " _This_ is a noogie, and _this_ is what Kotetsu should have done the first time you called him 'old man.'"

But Barnaby's expression was closer to a smile than anything else when Yuri finally released him.

* * *

Not surprisingly, Barnaby did have a wool suit. Like all his suits, it was professionally tailored and fit quite well. As a concession to Yuri's having come up with the idea, he wore the colorful silk boxers under the pants, though he didn't indicate as much to Yuri. He retained his black T-shirt and, disinclined to wear his usual boots or more formal footwear in the circumstances, went barefoot. Sitting on the foot of his bed with one knee drawn up, he looked at Yuri. "So. We, uh--wait?"

"For as long as it takes your intestinal flora to come through."

Barnaby looked so bleak at this that Yuri nearly laughed. "Come on, Barnaby, it's supposed to be fun. Your lack of decor is perfect for the purpose, unless you do something idiotic like use your Hundred Power while farting."

"Not part of the plan, don't worry." After a pause: "You can use your power for a while, can't you?"

"Just how much gas are you planning to shoot at me, Brooks?"

A smile flicked over Barnaby's face. "Actually, I was going to ask you to do something else with your power. You never did finish telling me about sculpting your fire and what you could do. Now that I've got my glasses on, I'd like to see that, if you're okay with passing the time that way."

Yuri looked at his hands, embarrassed. _I really can't tell him that I make a mean flaming arrow._ "I suppose I could try, if you'd like. But I'm not an artist, Barnaby; I said that before. Hm. I wonder what the fire equivalent of a snowman is."

"Could you do Justice Tower?"

Yuri looked at him. "You're not one to start with modest requests, are you?"

"You made very detailed drawings of it when we were at Pizza Out."

"Yes, well..." Yuri frowned, thinking. "Given that it has such strong verticals and essentially comes to an apex..." He glanced upward, gauging just how tall the figure could be without endangering the ceiling. Finally he extended his left hand, palm up, and formed a bed of blue flame in it that he began shaping with his right as it rose. Soon he and Barnaby had completely forgotten their fart-lighting project, Yuri concentrating intently as he worked, murmuring, "Slopes here, slopes here ... platform ... three steps ... wings ..." Barnaby could feel the heat from the flames as Yuri stroked and pinched them into shape, putting corners on the uprights and thinning the fan-like ornaments beneath Lady Justice, then forming the figure herself. Barnaby had seen flames before, seen Fire Emblem using his own flames with care and expertise, but he'd never seen someone who was one with fire this way, who owned it and crafted it and--

"I think that's all I can do," Yuri finally said, pulling his right hand away from his work and quickly running it through his hair. "How does it look?"

Barnaby got up to examine the ephemeral, handheld sculpture that was Yuri's flame--a glowing, shimmering image that crested a little higher than his head. "It's amazing," he finally said. "You've captured so many details. There are even ... it's like there are feathers on her wings."

"I'm not sure how much longer I can hold this. It takes a lot of concentration for something this complicated."

Barnaby walked a full 360 around Yuri, looked from every angle, looked at every detail. "It's amazing, Yuri. It really is. You got the heliport and everything. But I don't want you to tire yourself."

The figure vanished with the softest of _whoofs,_ and Yuri sighed and let his shoulders fall. "I've never tried anything like that. I'm surprised it turned out so well."

"It was amazing. You've never done anything like that before?"

Yuri shook his head. "No. Never."

Barnaby sat on the bed again, and Yuri sat beside him, carefully blotting his face with his spare handkerchief (he would never go out without a spare) and swearing under his breath at his own stupidity. His concealer seemed to be holding up well enough, but ... it had been ill-advised to become so wrapped up in such a pointless endeavor. What had gotten into him?

"Thank you for showing me that. It ... you're so comfortable with fire."

Yuri looked at him. "Of course. It's my power." Then he looked down. "No, I shouldn't say that. Some people hate their NEXT powers. I don't hate mine, but I haven't always been comfortable with it. I had to get that way."

Very quietly, Barnaby said, "I think I hate fire less now."

Yuri's gaze went critical. "You hate fire? You've been asking me to show you my power, _repeatedly,_ and you hate fire?"

"I'm sorry," Barnaby said, voice still low. "Please don't get upset."

"I'm not--" Yuri cut himself off before his own voice rose any higher, then got a grip on himself. "All right. I'm upset. Why the hell--" He cut himself off again. "Actually, I'm absurdly upset about this. Why do you hate fire?"

"Because the last time I saw my parents, they were dead in a room full of flames."

Yuri stared, his bad temper completely snuffed out. "Barnaby. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry."

"It's a real memory," Barnaby added defensively. "Maverick messed with who was standing there still alive. Sometimes that part of the image is still ... jumpy. But I saw it, I saw all of it, I remember it. I remember all the fire. I've hated fire for a long time." He looked down. "I know it's stupid. Fire's just a force of nature, like wind or electricity or ice. Fire Emblem used fire all the time, but I never felt any better about it because of that. And then ... I don't know. It's true I had ulterior motives for wanting to see you use your power the first time I asked you to, but when you did, you looked ... so natural and comfortable with it. Fire Emblem always looks like he's showing off, but you just _did_ what you did with your power." Barnaby smiled unsteadily. "I guess I shouldn't talk to you about hating fire, but I didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's all right. I mean, now that I know." Crap, he didn't need another reason for feeling sorry for Brooks, and now he had one, and ... crap. "We don't have to do anything else with fire if you'd rather not."

"It's fine. It's not like I didn't know about your power." Barnaby's expression shifted to concern. "You do look a little tired, though. It's okay if you'd like to call it a night."

"It didn't tire me that badly. My power's fine, if you're worried about that. Here, look." Yuri grinned playfully and let fire swirl on the palm of an upraised hand. "Picture perfect."

It wasn't as if Yuri had mimed tossing it at the man, but Barnaby recoiled in apparent terror, bounding off the bed and, without realizing it, activating his power. Just as automatically, Yuri killed the flame and leaped in the opposite direction--away from the door, he warily noted in some strategic part of his mind. Barnaby made no further move, however; he just stood there, shaking and glowing blue, his breathing suddenly rapid and unsteady. As Yuri took a few cautious steps to put more distance between them, Barnaby apparently came to himself. His eyes lost their unfocused look; he put a hand to his face and then, somewhat uncomfortably, ran it through his hair. He didn't say anything as he made the few steps it took to resume his seat at the foot of the bed, hand to his face again. There was plenty of room for Yuri as well, but Yuri stood unmoving, eyes narrowed, pose still defensive.

"I'm not going to attack you," Barnaby finally told him.

"Thanks," said Yuri. It was clear from his tone that he didn't believe a syllable.

Barnaby let himself fall backward onto the bed, though his feet were still on the floor. He finally glanced toward Yuri, who might have been prepared to confront a spitting cobra. Barnaby pulled off his glasses and flung an arm over his closed eyes.

"That's what Maverick looked like when he used his power," he explained. "It was this ... spinning ball of light. It was white, not blue, though. I guess I shouldn't be able to remember it, but after he died, things ... sometimes the memories come back, I guess, if something prompts them." When his breathing had slowed a bit more, Barnaby pulled his arm down, replaced his glasses, and looked toward Yuri again. Yuri hadn't moved, though he did look marginally less wary.

Barnaby sat up. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It was just ... a flashback, I guess. Yuri, are you okay?"

Yuri didn't look okay, and Barnaby guessed he shouldn't be surprised; he had no idea what he'd done when Yuri's spare, cold face had suddenly morphed into Albert Maverick's age-lined jowls and NEXT-blue eyes. At least he hadn't blasted through the roof the way he had at that warehouse when Kotetsu had been playing with a stun gun (but honestly--the things Kotetsu did). The room showed no signs of damage; surely he hadn't done anything all _that_ alarming.

He wouldn't have hurt Yuri. Surely he wouldn't have hurt Yuri.

Unable to think of anything appropriate to say, Barnaby told Yuri, "I did wear that silk underwear." He pulled down the waistband of his wool pants. "See?"

"You actually wore that?" The sight of the gaudy fabric seemed to pull Yuri out of his funk. "You don't just _have_ silk underwear; you're obsessed with it."

" _I'm_ not the one who heard about silk underwear and instantly thought of fart-lighting."

"You went along with the idea!"

"Now you sound like Kotetsu."

Yuri bridled. "If you're going to insult me, I'm going to take my ball--" he gestured with a cupped but empty hand "--and go home."

Barnaby was smiling, albeit a bit self-consciously, as he rose. "It is getting pretty late. Maybe it's just as well if we call it a night. Yuri, thanks. I guess it was a kind of weird thing to ask you, but I ... well, I appreciate it. I've enjoyed hanging out with you. Thank you for the gum and the cheesecake."

"You're ... welcome," Yuri said, sincere but embarrassed, because Blow Your Lunch and one's unfinished cheesecake aren't exactly the things that memories to last a lifetime are made of. "And thank you for the pizza and ice cream. It's been a long time since I just hung out with someone. I enjoyed it too."

"Maybe we can do this again sometime."

They were the same conventional words anyone would have said while seeing a guest to the door, but Yuri couldn't quite brush them off, and he found it disquieting that he didn't want to. Barnaby's emotional turmoil had put him so far off balance it threatened to send him through a wall, but until that unsettling turn of events, most of his interactions with Barnaby had been ... well, they had been...

Fun.

Rather a contrast to what probably awaited him at his next destination. His thoughts must have shown in his demeanor, for Barnaby asked, "Something wrong?"

Yuri shook his head. "Be it ever so humbling, there's no place like home." 

"You'll be fine." Barnaby could have sounded more convincing, but Yuri couldn't fault either the words or the tone, under the circumstances. Barnaby was actually holding the door open and rather pointedly looking toward the hall.

_Didn't take long to wear out my welcome, did it?_ Yuri reflected dryly, but not bitterly; he was tired too, tired enough not to particularly mind being in essence shooed off the premises.

Barnaby murmured a rather wooden "Good night," and the door silently slid shut before Yuri could reciprocate. Yuri was still getting his bearings when a thunderous _sound_ from the other side practically shook the door.

_Oh, that would have given a lovely light._ Yuri drew himself to his full height and leaned close to the door. "Barnaby Brooks Jr., I _heard_ that!"

He didn't really expect a response and was surprised to perceive, just as he was turning to go, an audible snicker.

Yuri didn't snicker. But he did wear a grin as he made his way down the hall.


End file.
